


A Dog That Loves Him

by StarsandJellyfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dogs, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Rare Pairings, Sam Winchester Wants a Dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24270667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsandJellyfish/pseuds/StarsandJellyfish
Summary: Benny just wants to see Sam smile, but it's difficult when Sam doesn't want anything to do with him. With Dean's help, Benny comes up with the perfect gift for the younger Winchester, one that he's always wanted. If that gift leads to some confessions and explanations, well... That can only be a good thing.
Relationships: Benny Lafitte/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	A Dog That Loves Him

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I hope you enjoy this fic.   
>  I know Benny/Sam isn't a particularly well-loved or known pairing, and in the show they didn't get very much interaction at all, and what there was wasn't great, but I feel like they could be good for each other if they got past their (pretty reasonable) distrust of each-other.   
>  I hope nobody seems too out of character in this fic, but like I said, they never really interacted in the show, so I'm working off my own imagination here.   
>  Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic. :)

A Dog That Loves Him 

Benny ignored Dean’s griping about the huge dog in the backseat of the Impala. He and Dean had been off on a hunt together, leaving Sam behind. It wasn’t something Benny liked to do, but the brothers Winchester had had a fight, and seeing as he and Sam still weren’t that close, Benny had decided to leave with Dean to protect him on the hunt, leaving Feathers in the Bunker with the younger Winchester to help calm him down or keep him company, or whatever Sam needed.

It wasn’t that Benny didn’t like Sam. In fact, he did. A lot. Therein lay the problem, as Dean had picked up on it and was just a tad jealous. Benny could see why: Dean thought that Benny was going to move on from Dean to Sam. That wasn’t the case. Benny was extremely fond of Sam, could already smell the potential the younger Winchester had for being his mate, but he still cared for Dean as a friend, a brother.

Despite his dislike of Benny drawing closer to Sam, Dean had still been giving Benny tips on how to make Sam like him. He’d also been putting in good words to the stubborn hunter, trying to persuade Sam that Benny was a good guy. It seemed like he wasn’t having any luck, Sam still taciturn and watchful whenever Benny was near him, though it was a marked improvement from their first few meetings, in which Sam had wanted to kill Benny. Hey, everybody had to start somewhere.

Dean was going so far to help Benny win Sam’s affections that he’d even agreed to Benny’s plan of bringing Sam a dog, something Dean had reluctantly admitted Sam had always wanted. Together, they’d gone to the rescue centre on the way back from the hunt, searching for the perfect hound for Sam. There, Benny had seen the perfect dog. His name was Patch, and he was a _giant_ , truly. It was a sort of dog Benny had never seen before, somehow, an Irish Wolfhound. He hadn’t known dogs came in such a big size, but he just knew it was the right one for Sam.

There was something about Patch’s nature: the way he was so big, but tried carefully not to use his size against any of the other dogs, the way he nurtured the other dog in his kennel with him, the way he tried to comfort other dogs through the bars of his cage, that made Benny believe Patch was just perfect for Sam. Something about the dog reminded him of the Winchester, and he _had_ to take him. Dean hadn’t been so keen.

Repeatedly, he’d tried to draw Benny’s attention away from Patch and towards a timid-looking sheepdog named Bonnie. While she had been lovely in her own way, Benny just hadn’t felt she was right. Deep down, Dean had known it too, because he’d eventually given in to Benny’s adamant insistence that Patch was _the_ dog, which led to the poor boy sleeping in the back of the Impala, squished up and uncomfortable, as they pulled into the garage.

As the Impala drifted to a stop and Dean turned the engine off, he turned to Benny.

“You’re taking that mutt inside and telling Sam it’s his, okay?” With that, he threw open his door a little harder than necessary, sliding out of his seat and stalking across the garage. Benny watched him go with a blink, confusion pausing him momentarily, before he exited the car.

Stretching himself out, enjoying the freedom of movement that not being cooped up in a car all day gave him, Benny wrapped his fingers around the road-dusty handle of the Impala and pulled it open, letting Patch hop out of the gap.

Once out, Patch fell down into a deep stretch, a squeaky yawn leaving his mouth as he bowed down into it. When he straightened up, he shook himself out, wagging his tail gently as he looked at Benny for instruction. His head was at the bottom of Benny’s rib-cage, tilted slightly upwards so his big dark eyes could stare into Benny’s own steely blue ones.

Huffing out a snort, Patch turned his attention elsewhere. He’d taken to ignoring Benny, as many dogs did. They couldn’t hear a heartbeat (because he didn’t have one) but they could tell he was alive. Most dogs did what any sane person would do in that situation, and pretended for the most part that he didn’t exist. Privately, Benny thought it was an excellent strategy, not that he’d tell Dean that. Dean would have snorted at him, telling him that ignoring a problem like that would get you killed. He was probably right there, Benny conceded, but Patch’s method was the one that kept you saner.

“Come on then,” he said, shaking his head as he set off in the direction Dean had vanished in. “Let’s go find your owner, huh?”

………………….

Tail wagging faster, Patch kept pace with Benny as the vampire moved through the Bunker, searching Sam out. It didn’t take long to find the younger Winchester; he was in one of his usual haunts. Sam could most often be found either in the library, the map room or his bedroom. This time it was his bedroom, his soft breaths coming from the other side of the door. Only the faint flicking sound of crinkly pages in a leather-bound tome told Benny that Sam wasn’t asleep, so relaxed was he. Benny hated to disturb the younger’s relaxation, since he got so little of it.

Taking a deep breath he didn’t need, Benny raised his fist and rapped softly against the door. Sam startled at loud noises, and it would do no good to put the younger Winchester in a defensive mood right from the get-go. Benny didn’t want to put Sam in a defensive mood at all.

“Come in,” Sam called, voice thick with sleep. He might not have been asleep already, but he was well on his way to the land of nod. Slowly, Benny peeked his head around the door, barely cracking it open from the frame. It took a few moments for Sam to raise his hazel eyes from his reading, but once they shifted to Benny, his face seemed to fall a little. “Oh, it’s you.”

Stung by Sam’s reaction, Benny curled his fingers tightly into the door handle, reminding himself not to squeeze too tightly when he felt the metal grinding under his grip. Leaving his own handprint in Sam’s door handle would probably not illicit a favourable response, and he didn’t want to ruin anything Sam owned, not after Dean had explained about their upbringing while they were travelling through Purgatory together. These brothers had grown up with very little. Ruining the things they had now would be cruel.

“Sorry, _Cher_ ,” Benny drawled, then winced at himself. Sam wasn’t an idiot, and he spoke French. If there was any time in which Sam and he did interact, it was when Sam wanted to practise his French with somebody and Castiel wasn’t in the Bunker. Sam’s polyglot abilities always astounded Benny: Sam could speak French, Spanish, Latin, Hebrew, Ancient Greek and some Japanese, as well as English. Benny had also heard him conversing with Castiel in another language, one that caused Dean’s face to adopt a pained expression whenever he heard it, though Benny didn’t recognise it himself. Carrying on like he hadn’t just revealed his hidden affection for Sam, Benny continued, “I’ve brought a gift for you.”

“A gift?” Sam raised an eyebrow, less than convinced. He was studying Benny with critical eyes, narrowed and almost dark grey in the lamplight. Sam’s irises were always changing colour; just another thing that Benny loved about him. If there was any doubt Sam hadn’t heard his slip of ‘ _cher_ ’, Benny lost it with the look Sam was giving him. Yeah, he’d definitely heard. Benny tried to ignore it, but he could feel his skin prickling as Sam studied him with furrowed brows.

“Yep,” Benny chuckled, slipping into the room enough that he could lean against the doorframe, arms folded over his barrel of a chest. Patch was still a little way down the hall, not even moving save for the wag of his tail. It was like he had caught on to the fact that he was a surprise, and knew the click of his claws would alert Sam to his presence, so he remained stock still. “Had to argue with your brother about it, too.”

“Argue with Dean?” Sam sounded suspicious now, brows furrowing as he repositioned himself against his headboard, sitting up straighter. The book slid down in his lap, a few pages turning when Sam’s long, callused fingers let them go. “Over what?”

“This,” Benny grinned, before toeing the door further open with his boot. Clicking his fingers, he summoned Patch into the doorway. Checking that Sam was okay with what he was seeing, Benny felt a fond smile stretching his lips at the way Sam was practically bouncing where he sat, sleepiness forgotten. “He’s yours.”

“Mine?” Sam’s sunflower eyes flicked between Patch and Benny incredulously, before finally settling on Patch. “Really? Dean said okay?”

“Well, he called him a mutt and said he wasn’t getting back in… Baby,” Benny wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes, still uncomfortable with Dean’s name for the Impala. He heard a faint noise coming from Sam, what might have been a snort or might have been a muffled laugh. Lor’, but Benny hoped it was the latter. He had only seen Sam laugh once since he’d come to live at the Bunker with the brothers, but it was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen. He’d wanted to see it over and over again ever since. “But, yes. Dean agreed.”

“Oh my God,” Sam breathed out, voice sounding a little chocked. He reached up a hand to press against his lips, dropping it again almost immediately. Patch let out a little whine, his tail wagging once, then falling still. Upon hearing that, Sam shoved the tome off his lap with little care, surprising Benny – normally, Sam took such good care of books that he was sent into a fit of glaring whenever someone so much as folded a corner of a yellowed page down – and then threw back the blankets on the bed. Swinging his legs over the side, he stood and hurried over towards Patch, excitement etched into every line on his face. “Oh my God. Wow. Thank you, Benny. Wow.”

Sam’s taller stature meant that the dog’s head reached the bottom of his stomach, but Patch was still a big boy. If he were to jump up, he could put his paws on Sam’s shoulders with ease and lick his face wet with saliva. The image made Benny chuckle to himself.

When Patch saw that Sam was coming towards him, body-language screaming his bubbling excitement for the whole world to see, the dog lunged forward itself, bowling into Sam. Together, they tumbled down to the ground, Patch licking at Sam’s face as he went. Forearms raised, Sam tried to protect himself from the unrelenting kisses Patch was giving him, but he was no match for the dog’s enthusiasm. Benny felt a laugh forming in his throat, not hesitating to let it out.

Benny’s laugh caught Sam’s attention, pausing his playful wriggling with the dog in order that he could turn and squint at Benny.

“Why?” he asked, sounding generally confused. Patch whined lowly, reaching out a huge foot to paw at Sam’s face. Gently, Sam took Patch’s paw into his own enormous hand and set it back on the floor, thumb rubbing over the tar-black pads as he did. “Why did you do this?”

Embarrassment rushed through Benny, and he found himself glad that his body could no longer flush. Not being able to blush didn’t mean he couldn’t act awkward though, and that’s exactly what he did, eyes flicking away from Sam’s down to the floor, his toe tracing runes into the flagstones as he shifted his weight from side to side.

“Because Dean said you liked dogs, and I thought a dog would make you happy,” he admitted, not wanting to lie to Sam any longer. “You’re not nearly happy enough, _Cher_.”

“But why do you _care_?” Sam stressed, looking vulnerable in the low light of the room. Pushing himself upright, he shifted from the floor to the edge of the bed, sitting and watching for Benny’s reaction. “You’re Dean’s friend. Dean’s _brother_.”

Understanding rushed through Benny like a river bursting its banks, washing all confusion away and leaving him standing there washed clean from his old convictions, a new perspective left in their place.

“Oh, _Cher_ ,” he said softly, pushing himself off from the wall and stepping over to Sam. It only took three steps before he was standing before the taller man, their knees brushing gently together, the faintest touches like that of a butterfly landing on a flower. “Dean’s my brother, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t be friends with you, that I can’t _like_ you.”

“Like… like, like?” Sam asked, hope dawning on his face. He tried to hide it, reaching out for Patch and curling his arms over the dog’s shoulders, pressing the bottom half of his face into the dog’s fur. Patch bore it with good grace, hooking his chin over Sam’s shoulder and resting there. “Or like, like a friend.”

“Sam, I’ve been calling you ‘ _cher_ ’ since I got to your bedroom,” Benny pointed out, raising a pointed eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Understanding lit behind Sam’s multi-hued eyes, dark in the dim lighting of his bedroom. Raising his face from Patch’s shoulder, dislodging the dog from his own, Sam turned a tentative smile towards Benny.

“I think you like me how I like you,” he admitted, voice soft but face serious. Something warm curled in Benny’s undead chest, chasing out the cold emptiness he often found there.

“You like me?” Benny was genuinely surprised. The way Sam had acted towards him was far from welcoming, far from caring, but if he thought about it…

Sam had already admitted that he thought Benny was Dean’s friend, Dean’s brother. The poor man was suffering under the misapprehension that Benny could only like one brother at a time. Certainly, Benny could be friends with both of them, care for both of them, without diminishing his care for the other. Luckily, he felt two _very_ different ways about the brothers.

Sam’s distance had an explanation now, though. If Sam thought Benny could only be Dean’s friend, not his, it would explain his constant pulling away, his minimal interactions. Benny had caught Sam watching him from time to time, flushing when he was caught staring and looking away quickly. He’d always assumed that Sam was plotting against him, blushing because he’d been caught, but if Sam had been watching him because he _liked_ him, flushing with guilt each time because he thought only _Dean_ ought to interact with Benny, like Benny… Yes. That made sense.

“I do,” Sam confirmed, gaze dropping to his lap. Fingers locked together, fiddling with each other, Sam spoke into his lap. Gently, Patch licked at Sam’s cheek, trying to cheer him up. It rose a soft smile out of the Winchester. “I could see how you might think otherwise, though. I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven,” Benny decided with a firm nod. Tawny hair whipped upwards, darkened stare fixing on Benny in wide-eyed shock. Benny leaned down a little, placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders. “We’ll just take it from here, _Cher_.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, tentative smile pulling at his lips. The faint imprints of his dimples were beginning to show, a part of Sam’s body that Benny had a particular fondness for. Without thinking, he reached out a finger to poke at one, surprised when Sam’s smile stretched wider, deepening the divot. A callused hand reached up to curl around his, long fingers gently pulling Benny’s hand away from Sam’s face. “Good idea.”

They fell into a silence at that, comfortable and safe between them. Patch, sensing the ease in the room, hopped himself up onto the bed, curling himself around Sam’s hips where he sat, his tail hanging off the bed one side of Sam, his head pillowed on a woolly blanket-mound on the other side of Sam, his black nose snuffling softly, taking in the Sam-scent of pine, spice, iron-tang and something sparking bright and warm within, a kernel of something, like a spark, unidentifiable but so very, explicitly Sam.

Letting the scents around him bolster him, Benny hedged, “I think it’s about time I asked you on one of these new-fangled ‘date’ things.”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, fingers still tangled with Benny’s. Hope and happiness was causing his eyes to shine, fixed on Benny intently. “I’ll say yes.”

“That’s good,” Benny hummed, letting himself lean in. Neither Sam nor Patch was complaining, though the dog shifted closer to Sam protectively. “Means I can do this.”

Gently, Benny pressed a soft kiss to Sam’s cheek, just hitting the corner of his lips. His beard scraped Sam’s stubble, creating a small hush of sound in the room. A soft noise of surprise came from Sam, before he reached his hands up, latching them softly but firmly around Benny’s face, keeping him where he was.

“So sweet,” Sam breathed out against his lips, his breath smelling of coffee and fruit tea, bitterness and sweetness mixing together. A chuckle slipped out between them, the warm rush of it blowing across Benny’s lips. “But maybe I want more.”

Grinning, Benny shifted himself until their lips were hovering over each other, the barest sliver of space between them. They were so close Benny could practically taste Sam, could hear his pulse beating _thump, thump, thump_ , through his arteries. Benny stayed there, teasingly for a few moments, before pulling back. Sam’s hands dropped quickly, his eyes opening in confusion and maybe even a little bit of hurt. Picking up one of Sam’s huge paws, Benny pressed a kiss to the back of it, watching in delight as Sam’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Tough luck, Suga’,” he whispered, amusement thick in his voice, but also affection. The worry on Sam’s face began to slip away. Taking his hand back, he slipped it into the wiry grey hair of the hound curled around him. “I intend to take my time with this, do it right.” He paused, shifting a little from foot to foot before admitting, “Your brother would probably kill me if I wasn’t a gentleman, anyway.”

Sam burst out laughing at that, a huff of air that turned into a chime of sound. Benny’s heart swelled, even if it wasn’t beating, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched Sam in adoration. The man was just so beautiful, especially when he was happy. Benny wanted to see it all the time.

Next to Sam, Patch raised his head and licked at Sam’s exposed throat, causing Sam to laugh again, the scrape of Patch’s tongue and the feather-light brush of his long fur tickling Sam’s skin. Reaching out, Sam sank his fingers into Patch’s fur, giving him a firm rub. Benny met the dog’s eyes, sliding sideways from where the hound was still working to make Sam cry tears of laughter.

This was what Benny wanted to see for Sam all the time, and he knew with Dean and Patch’s help, he could accomplish it. His task began right there.


End file.
